I know it's taken a while and this story's nearly finished! I'm going to miss it but I'm writing another one a E/C and a bit of R/C soon so keep an eye out for it
The dim sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, groaning, she wanted to get up and close it but it was too much effort and her bed was so warm and comfortable. Her bed. Stiffly, quickly, she sat bolt upright and gazed around her bedroom. She was back home, in her apartment. She couldn't be here, he would come, her father. She clambered out of bed clumsily and yanked the curtains shut, looking around for any clue that he might have already passed through. There was nothing.
She left her bedroom and jogged around the apartment, frantically searching for any minor clue, there wasn't anything anywhere. She double checked that the door was locked before going back into her bedroom and getting changed quickly. Once she was fully-dressed she sat in the centre of her bed, just sat, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, was it just her or did it look slightly off-balance? She allowed her mind to ponder upon that notion for a while before her legs began to cramp so, slowly, she got up. She walked around her bedroom, taking glances out of her bedroom window; she gently pulled back the lace curtain and peeked out onto the street below.
There were a few people rushing around, busy on errands, but no one she recognized, she often wished she was more social, she didn't know many people, only the people from the theatre, Gustave, Erik and a couple of friends she'd met through her friends. She sighed and let the curtain drop again, as she did so her eyes fell on two small piles of paper on her dresser. She walked over to it slowly and looked at both piles of paper. Two songs, One from Gustave, one from Erik.
She picked them both up and began looking through them, singing them softly to herself, she sat down lightly on her bed, she wasn't sure how she felt as she read through both the songs, it was like there was a massive hole, eating up inside her chest but if she tried to concentrate on the exact emotions inside that hole, she just felt numb and the outer fringes of this hole seemed to sting with dubbed down pain. Suddenly feeling overcome with illness she threw the songs aside and ran to the bathroom, she only just reached it before she was violently sick, tears streamed down her face and after she'd cleaned herself up she simply slumped against the side of the bath, this bout of sickness had confirmed her fears. She was too tired to even cry, she felt her eyelids closing and she fell asleep right there, just on the bathroom floor.
! ! !
Gustave strolled home happily from his talk with his mother on the cliffs, well of course she wasn't actually there but he liked to think she was. He had a certain spring in his step, he'd written a song for the love of his life to sing at a concert and he could see a bright future ahead for them both! He strode happily in through his front door and wasn't surprised to find that his father wasn't there.
'Father?' he called out to the house, 'Father? Hello? Where are you?' there was no response. Sighing Gustave told himself that he was probably back in the lair, he hardly liked going out during the daytime, too many stares, too many questions about his mask, too many reminders of the past.
He couldn't quite decide what to do with himself, he wanted to go and visit Christina but she would be tired, probably still asleep, it was late morning, and he'd been up at the cliffs since earlier that morning, there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even go to work, he wasn't needed until later in the day, he had plenty of time to just, kill. He sat for about half an hour, staring into space and thinking, he thought about Christina, about the wonderful life they were going to have together, he thought about his father and how supportive he'd been, but there was something else, something nagging at the back of his head that he couldn't quite explain.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it, there was something terribly, terribly wrong but he couldn't work out what it was. The sound of the clock chiming twelve brought him from his thoughts with a jump. He thought that if Christina wasn't up by now then she certainly should be! So he picked up his coat and ventured outside, the air was warm against his face, but not quite warm enough to wander without a coat. He hummed a quiet melody to himself as he walked; still perk up from his mornings walk. He nodded silent hello's to anyone he passed and once he arrive at Christina's apartment he was surprised to find it locked. She normally wasn't so security conscious and Gustave would normally have to remind her to lock her doors.
Nevertheless he took out his key and opened the door.
'Hello?' he called out, signalling his entrance, there was no reply.
He wandered through the apartment in search of his love and found the bathroom door slightly ajar, from the hallway he could see a fragile hand lying on the floor, realising it belonged to Christina he threw the door open and dropped to his knees beside her, he pulled her onto his lap and held her close in his arms.
'Christina?' he spoke to her softly, afraid, he could see she was breathing, he could even see the throbbing of her pulse in her neck, but it didn't stop the shiver of fear that shot up his spine. 'Christina?' he said more loudly, shaking her slightly.
Here eyelids flickered for a moment before she looked up at him, 'Gustave? What are you doing here?' she said, trying to prop herself up limply but Gustave kept her firmly in his arms, after a couple of moments she gave up and succumbed to resting.
'I came to see you and found you passed out on the floor! What's wrong? What's happened?' he said soothingly.
'I… I'm…' Christina began but found she didn't want to complete the sentence, not yet. 'I'm fine… I was just tired and I didn't feel well… I don't remember what happened…'
'Oh my darling!' Gustave said, hugging her close, 'my darling Christina, it's all alright now, I'm here…' still exhausted Christina slipped back into a sleep in Gustave's arms. Carefully, Gustave picked her up and took her back into the bedroom, and laid her on the bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow, the red ribbon coming loose and slipping down to her shoulder. On the bed beside her Gustave noticed two packs of paper and recognized one to be his song. He picked them both up and stared at them, confused. Why did Christina have two songs? He put them both back on the dresser and simply stood there, watching her sleep, his mind full of that thought that something was wrong.